Inky blue with a dash of purple,
the calm summer sky blankets
the drying field of grass.
slowly the dark clouds swallow up the moon.
There is not a star in the sky;
the moon was the last source of light.
In the pitch black night,
the lone figure stands there,
A swift wind stirs the air around it—
The form shivers.
It keeps waiting,
staring at the moon behind the clouds.
The night whispers to the lonely child—
don't be afraid, it breathes.
"I wish I wasn't second rate," she murmurs into the wind. "I wish I could be amazing too."
in the dark, somber night
a mist of silence embraces me.
"your loneliness is inevitable,"
the disconsolate angel whispers.
remorse fills the stale air tonight
and i struggle to get free.
"your dishonesty is respectable,"
the satanic demon sneers.
too late now to be set right,
blinded by regret, i can't see.
"your mistake is undeniable,"
the broken heart admits.